And while that sometimes results in spilled milk, a bad haircut or a crying sibling, it can be fostered into the greater good.

That’s what I saw when I visited Dudley Elementary for the STEM Fair on Friday.

Dr. Adeola Davis, a trained neuroscientist and the school’s adviser, explained the premise: Each grade worked on a science project and the fair was for them to present their findings.

The idea is that science doesn’t stop with the experiment — scientists have to know how to stand in front of their peers to present and ask questions.

Dr. Davis took me on a tour of the classrooms before it all began, and I caught snatches of kids before the fair started. The kindergartners clutched scripts, the second graders responded they were ready/not ready and the fifth graders were reminded that they’re the oldest and must set a good example.

I didn’t enter the school with a hypothesis, but here are four (un)scientific observations:

1. They may look small and adorable, but it can be nerve-wracking to stand in front of a group of kids.

It seemed to be the hardest part of the entire project for some of the students. It looked like the kindergartners tried to disappear into the whiteboard while they quietly read their script and answered questions from the "big kids."

When I asked a class of second-graders how they had felt before the presentations, I was answered with a cacophony of answers — they were nervous, excited, giggly. Yes, they'd do it again; no, they never wanted to do it again.

Any hesitation while standing in front of the classroom was lost once they were back in their desks.

Nothing bad happens when you stand in front of people, I thought, what is the worst-case scenario? There's nothing to be scared of.

I found out the answer to that question in the next class I spoke with. It was hard to keep my voice from stammering and squeaking.

It's because these kids are LISTENING.

2. When I spoke to the second-graders about how it feels to have everyone staring at them, I asked how they think their teacher must feel every day.

The response was, overwhelmingly, "happy."

It really struck me, the faith they had that this adult liked being there with them. It takes a patience and perseverance that's admirable and can't be bought with money or graded on a test.

I was in front of that class for about five minutes before I was ready to head out the door.

I saw that in many of the adults who were working to make the fair happen. Dr. Davis knew kids' names. Teachers offered heartfelt praise for jobs well done. There were volunteers from Kellogg Community College who helped coach the younger ones through the tougher parts. And already, they were all talking about how to make the next fair better.

Then there was Principal Jones, who seemed to be running around everywhere to fill in the gaps: Speaking to a kid who was in trouble, fixing a tripod, getting fish food, putting off lunch to talk to a reporter.

"How do you get better? The only way to get better is to have experience."

It's how kids grow, he said. The hands-on science project is only part of it, because there's also an element of building relationships and understanding and the legacy the older students can pass on to the younger students.

In other words, kids grow with community, and I saw a community come together to make it happen.

3. The fifth-graders worked on mingling and separating solutions for their project.

"It was like we were real-life scientists," said a boy called Damaree. He made it sound like working with potions or something more sci-fi, like "Ghostbusters."

It was because of the tools they used, added his classmate Maximes, the kind of tools real scientists use.

I was impressed by the fifth-grade group. They gave thoughtful answers and spoke well. Heck, just seeing them operate a whiteboard that responds to touch seemed very futuristic to me.

When I asked what kind of science project they'd like to work on next, I got a variety of answers:

Little trucks with cameras; a volcano; robots; rocket ships that fly.

They wanted to do things and the future seems to be in good hands.

4. One last thing that struck me was family. Parents were invited to watch, and while not everyone can get away from their day job, the ones who came made a difference. One girl said she was nervous until she saw her dad at the back of the classroom. Another said she was excited to be in the same classroom as her little brother. One mother asked questions and gave out hugs afterward.

In the scheme of things, these weren't big presentations. They weren't job interviews. Research funding wasn't riding on them.

But the encouragement of family and other adults is sure to help plant the seed that will grow into big deals in the future.

Annie Kelley is the Enquirer's planning editor. Email her at akelley@battlecreekenquirer.com